


Unfortunate Souls

by Drarryismymuse (Hatchersn)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dark Lucius, Hostage Situations, Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Threats of Violence, brief mention of suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-06-02 08:25:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19437655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatchersn/pseuds/Drarryismymuse
Summary: He was warned not to deal with the reclusive witch in Knockturn Alley as she never played fair, but when Draco finds himself backed into a corner with no way out, and his mother's life in the balance, he makes the ultimate sacrifice to ensure their safety.





	Unfortunate Souls

**Author's Note:**

> I need to give a GINORMOUS shout-out to my speedy and trusty beta, B. Without them I would be drowning in a sea of commas. I also need to shout-out to my beautiful G, she is the friend and cheerleader I don't deserve but somehow have!

Draco stood behind his mother, his knuckles white from clutching the back of her chair. She sat stiffly and neither of them spoke as they waited in a bare room within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Draco’s stomach roiled with nerves as he stared at the door, afraid to even blink.

Any second now Lucius Malfoy would be escorted through that door. It had been ten years since Draco or his mother had last seen him; ten years that he had been in Azkaban. Neither of them knew what to expect, but they certainly weren’t expecting anything good. 

Draco heard a pair of footsteps echoing down the hall and, even though he didn’t think it was possible, the tension in the room heightened even more. Draco moved his hand to his mother’s shoulder and gripped it tightly before moving closer to her side, surreptitiously blocking the path between the door and his mother. 

Lucius turned the corner, sweeping into the room casually as if he had just been in a quick meeting and had seen his family mere minutes ago. His hair was dull and his skin a bit sallow but, dressed in the robes Draco was able to provide to the DMLE prior to his release, he looked fine. One would likely guess he had just overcome a prolonged illness—not that he had just been released from a nearly lethal stint in the worst Wizarding prison in the world.

“Ah, Draco, my son!” he exclaimed, striding forward and awkwardly embracing him. Draco had to physically shake his head to clear the immediate visceral reaction to the embrace—it felt much too similar to his embrace with Voldemort right before he fell.

Lucius noticed Narcissa seated behind Draco and pushed him to the side. “My wife,” he bowed and took her hand, placing a gentle kiss on the top before pulling her from her chair and fully embracing her, planting a kiss on each of her cheeks. 

“Lucius. You look...well. You look really well.” Narcissa said, astonishment making her breathless.

“Yes, well, it isn’t so hard to thrive when one knows how to.” Lucius winked and tapped the side of his nose as if he had many insider secrets.

“Shall we head home, father?” Draco felt uneasy, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. Ten years away from someone surely made all former familiarity disappear, but Draco hoped that once they were back in the Manor his mind would ease.

“Certainly.” Lucius turned toward the guard that had escorted him into the room. “Ralph, it was a pleasure speaking with you; I appreciate your hospitality.” He turned back toward Draco and Narcissa, “Come.” And with that, he turned toward the door with a dramatic sweep of his robes and marched into the hall, not even looking back to see if his family followed.

~*~

Draco paced the hallway outside his father’s study, trying to put off the inevitable confrontation for as long as possible. Lucius had been home for nearly two months and had spent the vast majority of that time in his study, with owls coming and going at all hours. When he deigned to join his family for a meal he refused to discuss the contents of his many communications and instead would babble _too_ excitedly about very mundane things.

Narcissa and Draco had spent many a night wondering if Lucius had indeed gone mad, but they hoped he was merely trying to rebuild his prestigious network. However, two nights ago Draco had woken to someone trying to enter his bedroom. When he opened the door, he had found a complete stranger staring back at him. 

The two men had stared intently at each other before Lucius hurriedly rounded the corner and shuffled the man away, towards his study. A sinking feeling had permeated Draco as soon as he had seen the man. He didn’t recognize his face, but he recognized his type: weak, desperate, malicious. Lucius was not building a prestigious network, he was building followers.

Draco had not been able to go back to sleep that night and when he silently approached the study to listen in he found it blocked with a strong _Muffliato._ Over breakfast the next morning Draco had discussed his concern with his mother and together they had decided he needed to approach Lucius to demand answers.

That was how Draco found himself currently pacing the hallway. A _Muffliato_ was still in place over the study, but he was fairly confident no one other than his father was in there. He took a deep breath and held it for a few beats and then sharply knocked on the study door while slowly releasing his breath.

Draco waited a few moments and prepared to knock again when the door opened a crack and Lucius peered out. “I’m busy, Draco, surely whatever you need can wait.” Lucius began closing the door and Draco shot his arm out, plastering his hand across the door to stop it from closing.

“No father, I need to speak with you now.” Anxiety stirred in Draco’s belly as he watched a myriad of emotions play across Lucius’s face: anger, annoyance, evasion, acceptance...delight. Far from reassuring, the last expression concerned Draco the most as he cautiously stepped into the now wide-open door. Draco flinched as Lucius spelled the door shut behind him and indicated that Draco should settle by the fire.

He perched on the edge of a chair and turned to see what Lucius was doing—only to see him walking towards him with two glasses of brandy. “It’s not even noon,” Draco said, shocked.

Lucius waved off his concern. “You have impeccable timing and that is to be celebrated!” he cried out, nearly spilling brandy on Draco as he roughly passed the tumbler over. Lucius sat in the chair opposite Draco and stared into the fire, grinning and nodding his head while he sipped; it seemed he no longer knew Draco was even in the room. 

Draco set his untouched glass on a side table and cleared his throat. “What is it that you’ve been doing in here? That man I saw the—”

Lucius flapped his hand at Draco again and downed the contents of his cup. “That man is none of your concern, yet.” Lucius turned toward Draco and leaned in, his face almost maniacally giddy, and gestured for Draco to lean in closer. Hesitantly, he moved fractionally closer, but apparently, it was enough to satisfy his father since he then whispered loudly, “I’ve been collecting believers!” 

Draco startled as Lucius flung himself backwards in his chair and slapped his hands together heartily. “Believers?” Draco asked. 

“Yes! Believers in _ME._ You see, I had a lot of time to figure out how we lost the war—and it became painfully obvious. The Dark Lord—no, _Voldemort—_ was a fraud!” Draco could not hide the astonished fear on his face as Lucius stood and began pacing in front of him.

“He learned a few fancy tricks and took us all for fools, but he was nothing more than a Half-Blood lunatic. I could have done everything he did—and I could have done it better! I heard the Dementors whispering at night; they whispered about the REAL Dark Lord—ME! I began building my base in Azkaban and have been extending it now that I am free. Do you remember Ralph? He has been helping me. He heard the whispers too. Now it is time I bring my family in. You are in an enviable position Draco, you shall inherit the new world only _I_ can build!” 

Draco recoiled in his chair, his head shaking ‘no’ violently, his mind and voice not able to catch up with what he was hearing. He had anxiously gone through many scenarios regarding his father’s activity, but nothing compared to this reality. Saliva flooded Draco’s mouth and he took large gulps of air to keep from being sick. “But surely you don’t...I mean—you can’t!” 

Lucius spun towards Draco and narrowed his eyes. “You swore fealty once to an unworthy leader; you _will_ do it again to a worthy one.” 

“You know that wasn’t my choice,” Draco whispered, his normally pale face ashen. 

Lucius’s mouth curled into a snarl as he stalked closer to Draco and leaned down into his personal space. “I also had plenty of time to realize what a coward you were the first time around. You will either prove yourself useful or you will be _dealt with_.” The last two words were bitten out and Draco barely managed to suppress a shudder as he maintained eye contact. This close, he could see the madness swirling in the depths of the violent grey orbs.

He slowly stood from his chair, bodily forcing Lucius to take a step back. “I understand.” Draco held Lucius’s gaze for a moment longer and then turned heel and calmly left the study; he needed to speak to his mother.

Draco and Narcissa stayed up long into the night trying to figure out what they needed to do. The easy answer would be to call the Aurors in and have Lucius taken into custody. Draco knew the depth of madness he saw in his father’s eyes and wanted to proceed with this option, but Narcissa was too afraid he would be sentenced to death and preferred to deal with the issue quietly as a family. 

They made a plan to insist that Lucius join them for breakfast the next day and they would try everything they could to convince him to see reason.

~

The next morning, Draco woke to insistent knocking on his bedroom door. He grabbed his wand from his bedside table and stumbled toward the door, casting a _Tempus_ as he walked to check the time—6:07 a.m.—too early for anyone to be awake. 

He opened his door just a crack to cautiously peek out and then swung it wide open when he recognized his mother standing in the hallway. She bustled into his room, her dressing gown billowing behind her. Draco shut his bedroom door and locked it, unsure of why his mother was here but wary of trouble. 

“He didn’t come to bed last night. I woke early and noticed his absence so I decided to check his study. He’s called a meeting, Draco.” Narcissa stopped pacing and turned to face him, worry etched deeply in her features. He had a passing thought that his mother already looked as if she had aged a decade in the time his father had been home. He felt a pang of guilt as he wished his father had never been released. 

“When does the meeting start?” Draco asked as he began gathering clothes to change into. 

“Soon. He barely acknowledged me when I first came in, but then seemed to think I had the best timing. He asked me to wake you and come join him so we can be a united front.” Narcissa sighed deeply and clenched her jaw. “We’ve worked so hard to overcome the stigma on the Malfoy name after the war and in mere months he will _ruin us._ ” 

Draco squeezed her shoulder as he passed to enter his en suite. “I’ll end this, don’t worry.” He changed quickly and then insisted on following his mother to her room to keep watch while she quickly dressed and made herself presentable.

They walked together to Lucius’s study and found him exiting just as they approached.

“Ah, good morning! I’m so glad you two thought to join me today. Come, I am holding this in the main dining hall.” At that, Lucius turned and headed down the hall, leaving Draco and Narcissa to follow behind.

Once in the dining hall, he directed them to sit on either side of the head of the table and then scurried out of the room. Minutes passed while they waited anxiously for his return; at one point Draco stood with the intention to search out Lucius, but a whispered plea from Narcissa forced him to sit back down. 

Eventually, Lucius entered the room with two men flanked on either side of him. Draco immediately recognized the man that had tried to break into his room the other night and Ralph, the agent from the DMLE. The second thing Draco recognized was that they were all pointing wands at himself and his mother. Draco instinctively reached for his own wand only to realize he had left it in his rooms. A quick glance at his mother showed that she too had left her wand behind.

“Did you truly think I wouldn’t discover your _foolish_ plot to thwart me? I am the true Dark Lord! I know ALL that goes on around me; not like that pathetic excuse of a wizard before me. If you two will not join me willingly, you will join me _forcefully._ ” Lucius made a small hand motion and the two men behind him lunged forward, shouting an _Incarcerous_ incantation that tightly bound Draco and Narcissa into their chairs. Draco fought his bindings but it only made them cut tighter into his skin. Narcissa went immediately limp, her face a mask of resigned stone.

“Father! This is incredibly unnecessary. We were not plotting against you, right mother?” Narcissa sat in silence. Draco looked around wildly. “What are you planning to do? We have good standing now father, we don’t need to tread this path.”

Lucius chuckled, the low sound echoing unnaturally around the dining hall. “You were always so weak. I see ten years has not changed you one bit. But I can.” He snapped his fingers and Narcissa’s binds were tightened, forcing a pained cry out of her. “Your weaknesses can be exploited, boy. Until you fall in line, your mother will suffer. Adrian! Take Narcissa to the dungeon.” The man that had tried to break into Draco’s room stepped forward and began levitating Narcissa’s bound form out of the room. Draco fought his binds again, nearly tipping his chair while he yelled for his mother. The last thing he saw before everything went dark was his father’s cold, emotionless face.

~

Draco woke in his own bed, disoriented and cold. His room was dark so he shuffled along his bed until he found the edge and felt for his nightstand. His heart leapt when he realized his wand was still there; at least he hadn’t been disarmed. 

He cast a _Tempus_ and cursed under his breath—it was nearly 11:00 p.m. He had been out for far too long. All he could think of was finding his mother. He stalked to his bedroom door, his wand firmly in hand this time, only to find it locked. He cast an _Alohamora_ and tried again—nothing. He quickly went through a couple more progressively stronger unlocking spells before giving up and slamming his fist into the door in frustration. 

His hand throbbed and he knew he would bruise terribly, but he was too frustrated to consider healing himself. He was considering his situation and what he could possibly do when his door swung open and Lucius, still flanked by Ralph and Adrian, entered. Draco raised his wand with the intention to figure out a way past the men but suddenly found his wand flying out of his hand and into a corner of his room.

Lucius smirked at him, “As always, you are ill-prepared and ill-timed. I find it such a waste that you naturally have a considerable amount of power with absolutely no ambition to master it.” Lucius looked at his nails and preened, deliberately drawing out the silence in the room. “Which is precisely why I have a plan.” 

Draco gasped as he felt his father invade his mind, and he immediately put up walls to block passage. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt his father retreat, but it was short-lived. He cringed as Lucius laughed. “You were always good at Occlumency, but I believe you’re going to want to see what I have to show you. After all, your mother’s life depends on it.”

Draco’s eyes widened at the mention of his mother. He knew that Lucius was unhinged, but this seemed much too far, even for him. “Okay,” he said through gritted teeth. 

He allowed a small pathway for Lucius to enter and mentally watched a scene of his mother being thrown into the Manor’s dungeon, Lucius following her into the cell and strapping her into the iron cuffs mounted on the wall. Draco felt his stomach roil with nausea as the scene continued. Lucius leaned down over a huddled Narcissa to say, _Draco will watch this later, so I’m going to tell you both now: if he doesn’t cooperate_ you _will be the one to suffer. If he attempts to flee, you will be whipped; if he attempts to rebel, you will be starved; if he attempts to stop me...you will be_ killed. He stood and smirked at Narcissa. To her credit, she merely stared straight ahead, not even letting a single tear escape.

Lucius swiftly left his mind and Draco dropped to his knees, retching onto the floor. He was stuck—he had felt his father’s emotions and knew that he was not bluffing. Lucius held no affection for his family, only the intense need and drive for power. Draco broke down as Lucius and his cronies left him locked into his room once more.

~*~

**_4 weeks later_ **

Sweat trickled down Draco’s back as he stood in the main ballroom of Malfoy Manor. Lucius was behind him, barking orders into his ear. Today he was to practice _Avada Kedavra_ and thus far he had failed to produce a satisfactory result, only managing to stun or knock out the pixies Ralph had stolen from the DMLE. Lucius was losing patience and had begun threatening harm to Narcissa if Draco didn’t sort himself out. 

His arm trembled as he lifted his wand and cast again—this time only managing to push the pixie back a few centimetres. “IMBECILE!” Lucius yelled. “You could take out the entire lot if you just FOCUSED!” He got close to Draco’s face, his eyes mad and spittle flying from his mouth. “I will _make you concentrate_.” He barked out Adrian’s name and, to Draco’s horror, Adrian entered the ballroom with Narcissa in tow.

Draco barely managed to stifle a whimper when he saw his mother: shackled, gaunt, blank-faced. Lucius stalked over to her and roughly grabbed her by the arm, dragging her to Draco. He held his wand at her temple and spoke in a deceptively calm voice, “You kill that pixie, or I kill her.” Draco and Narcissa shared a look. She nodded and then closed her eyes, prepared to die. 

Draco took a deep, steadying breath and cast. His intent was true and the pixie dropped dead. Lucius grinned broadly and smacked him across the shoulder before pointing his wand back at Narcissa. “Again.” 

~

That night, Draco collapsed into his bed and cried. He had murdered twelve innocent pixies that day, and that wasn’t even the worst of what Lucius had been demanding of him. He was exhausted and didn’t feel that he could handle this much longer. His mother’s life hanging over his head had nearly destroyed him and he had begun thinking that both of them dying would be worth it to leave the torture of this life. He eventually fell into a fitful sleep full of dreams. 

_He was about fifteen years old and accompanying his dad to Knockturn Alley during a break from Hogwarts. He and his father were following the same course they had so many times before—heading straight to Borgin and Burkes—but for some reason Draco felt panicked; he needed to get away from Lucius. His father prattled along as they walked and everything seemed normal, it just didn’t feel normal. Just before reaching the shop, his eyes landed on another storefront across the alley, a dilapidated store that was barely visible—Unfortunate Souls. He tried to remember why he knew that name and what he knew about the shop. Just as he felt the answer was within reach he woke with a start._

Adrian was banging on his door again, his typical wake-up call. Draco dragged himself out of bed and into his en suite to shower and apply his usual tinctures and glamours. He vaguely recalled his dream and was ready to dismiss it entirely when a picture of the dilapidated storefront flashed in his mind: Unfortunate Souls. 

His memory of that store came dredging up from the depths of his brain. He remembered asking his father about it one day before heading into Borgin and Burkes—Lucius had warned him to stay away. He had explained that the store was owned by a powerful dark witch that had not been seen in decades, but the stories of her misdeeds had spread anyway. She apparently granted wishes and helped people out of tight situations, but always demanded a very steep price that many had disappeared after failing to pay. 

Draco finished combing his hair into place just as Adrian filled the doorway of his en suite. “Time to go, pretty boy,” he jeered at him. Draco carefully placed his comb back into its spot on his counter and slowly turned, completely ignoring Adrian as he brushed past him and headed toward the ballroom. A slight smile graced his face as he thought up a reason to go to Knockturn Alley.

~

It had taken more convincing than Draco thought it would, but he finally succeeded in convincing his father that he had remembered a trinket he once saw in Borgin and Burkes that would be a complete game-changer for their cause. As predicted, his father latched onto the idea of having more power and acquiesced to Draco’s request to go to Knockturn; he had to take Adrian with him, and he was instructed to go directly to Borgin and Burkes and then come directly home—but he was going.

The next day, Adrian and Draco stood before the Floo as Lucius intoned his strict instructions again. They had exactly ten minutes to get there and back; if they were late, Narcissa would be whipped until they returned. 

Draco quelled his nerves and entered the Floo with Adrian. Ten minutes. He could do this in ten minutes—at least, he hoped he could. Once they stepped into Borgin and Burkes, Draco was immensely relieved to see that neither of the owners were present. Draco swiftly turned and stunned Adrian, throwing consecutive silencing and binding charms on him before levitating him toward a large cupboard and stuffing him inside. He shot a powerful locking charm on the cupboard and then dashed out of the shop, praying to every god he could remember that Unfortunate Souls was still there. 

In his haste, he didn’t initially see it and his stomach dropped. He briefly considered just running...but he couldn’t do that to his mother. He closed his eyes and took a moment to breathe and calm down. When he opened them again he saw it. The shop looked exactly as it had in his dream and he quickly walked across the alley and entered. 

Unfortunate Souls was even more decayed on the interior than the outside suggested. The entire place sagged and smelled of damp mould. The only things on display in the shop were rows and rows of dusty brooches, no one the same as any other. Draco got the distinct impression that these brooches were not for sale, but were more displayed like a collection. 

He hesitantly walked deeper into the darkness of the shop. “H-hello?” No answer. He walked a few paces further in and called out again. He heard a rustling sound and looked around for the source, squinting to try and see better in the murky darkness. He jumped when he heard something land heavily next to him and then felt something wrapping around his legs. 

He looked down and froze in horror as he realized two boa constrictors were twining around his legs and writhing around each other. He didn’t dare to move and was quickly relieved as the two snakes began moving away from him and further into the store. They periodically turned around to hiss and flick their tongues at him. He could have sworn one even jerked its head in an indication that he should follow. 

“If only Harry Potter were here,” he grumbled, and then scowled because he definitely didn’t need Harry Potter, ever.

He reluctantly followed the snakes, shuddering as the store seemed to extend further than he thought possible. The dampness clung to him as he followed the soft swishing sound of the snakes into a narrow corridor. At least some sconces were lined along the wall, glowing with the faint blue glow of wizard fire. 

Finally, the narrow corridor opened into an open blue-tinged room. Draco didn’t see anyone at first, but quickly enough a large person emerged from the shadows. Draco couldn’t quite tell if it was a witch or wizard. They appeared to be floating as they came closer to Draco. The snakes reached the person and began winding up their body. Draco stood still and silent, waiting.

The person finally came close enough for Draco to make out her—since it was indeed a witch—features: her makeup was heavy but impeccable, and it made her age impossible to decipher. She stood in front of him, petting and cooing at the snakes. She made no move to introduce herself and it made Draco uncomfortable; he didn’t know what to do, but he did know too much time had passed and he needed to get this going and get his mother. 

“I am seeking help for a very complex problem,” he began. 

She cut him off, “I know what you seek. It will require a great deal of work on my behalf.” She looked at him idly, still stroking the head of one of the snakes. 

“Can you do it?” he asked, fear creeping into his voice. What if this didn’t work after all? This would surely be his mother’s death sentence if it didn’t. He wasn’t one to be particularly afraid of snakes but he didn’t think it boded well that she seemed as comfortable with them as Voldemort had. 

“If you can pay, I can do anything.” 

Draco’s eyes lit up again. “If you can get us both out, I will pay whatever you ask of me.” 

“Marvelous,” the witch smiled and shoved her snake to the side. 

The smile didn’t reach her eyes and Draco shifted uncomfortably. He remembered his father’s old warnings about magical folks disappearing if they couldn’t pay.

“Wh-what will be the payment?” 

“Let’s see... You want your mother removed from the Manor and your father to be rendered powerless to pursue the two of you. Is that correct?”

“Yes. But how could you possibly know that?” Draco tried to push down the discomfort wracking his body; this situation did not feel right. But then again, she said she could make anything happen.

“It’s my business to know what my clients want. As I mentioned before, this will take a great deal of effort for me so the price will be set accordingly.” She paused and raised an eyebrow at Draco to indicate he could back out now if he wished. He swallowed hard and nodded sharply. “I will require just one thing from you: your magic.”

Draco’s head swam and he blinked rapidly as if that would make everything make sense. “You...you want my magic?” 

“Oh child, I don’t _want_ it, but I must have proper recompense, surely you understand.” 

“But what will I do?”

“That is not my concern. I warned you the price would be steep and yet, as it is, I’ll still barely come out even.” She said all this while pointing around the room and gathering objects around her. Draco didn’t see a wand in sight, but she was performing fairly complex magic. He shuddered as he realized how powerful she truly was. “You have 90 seconds to act before your father drags your mother out of the dungeon.” She said this nonchalantly as she continued to prepare items before him. 

Draco paled and his head swam. He was trapped. Deep down he knew this was a mistake, but he couldn’t think of any other way out—either out of Lucius’s grip, or this shop. He had the sense she didn’t take kindly to those who backed out once the terms were set. 

_Muggle._

He was going to become the very thing his father despised; the very thing he used to despise. He had no idea how to survive in a world without magic. But his mother would be safe. He felt like he was going to retch again. He couldn’t think of a good solution.

“30 seconds.” She didn’t even look up from the potion she had begun brewing. 

Draco broke out into a cold sweat as panic gripped him to his very core. The witch pointed into the air in front of Draco and a large timer materialized in front of him, 20 seconds and counting down. She pointed again and an image appeared next to it; it showed his father scowling deeply and stalking down to the dungeon. 

Draco stared at the image in horror. “Yes!” he shouted. “I agree! You can have your payment, just save her!” 

She grinned again and snapped her fingers. The two visions disappeared and she was there, standing directly in front of him, mere inches away. “Drink,” she said, pushing a steaming potion into his shaking hands. Without thinking, he tipped the entire contents of the potion down his throat. It burned and he dropped the cup to claw at his throat. He looked up at her in panic as he dropped to his knees, clutching his throat as he attempted to drag in a lungful of air. He fell to the side, now laying on his back and fighting convulsions. He thought that surely he had been duped; she was murdering him and his mother would die at the hands of his father. His vision faded as the witch leaned over him, smiling. His last thought was about how he had failed yet again. 

~*~

Draco’s eyes fluttered open and he was immediately aware of pain wracking his entire body. He groaned and closed his eyes against the harshness of the light in the room. Immediately, the light dimmed and he felt someone sit on the edge of his bed and a cold flannel was gently placed on his head.

“Draco, honey, how are you feeling?” He recognized the worried voice of his mother and his eyes flew open. He struggled to sit up but she pressed him back onto the mattress.

He was deeply fatigued and didn’t have it in him to fight against her, but he did shift so he could see her. He slowly took in her appearance to look for any trace of a beating, but it appeared that the witch had managed to get her out in time. “What happened?” he asked.

Narcissa clenched her jaw. “I don’t know what you did, but I can tell you what I know.” She paused to take a deep breath before continuing. “Adrian had let me know that morning when he brought my bread that you and he were going to Knockturn. He seemed quite pleased to let me know that if the two of you didn’t return in a short time that I would be beaten. He taunted me, telling me he would ensure you didn’t make it back in time.” She paused again to compose herself and Draco rubbed her arm soothingly. “I passed the morning full of tension, waiting to see what would happen. Then I heard Lucius coming down the stairs. I could tell he was angry and I was frightened, but then a strange woman appeared in the cell. She told me you had sent her to collect me and she grabbed my arm and Apparated us out of there. I have no idea how she made it through the wards on the Manor, especially without setting off any alarms. But we were gone before Lucius made it down the stairs.” 

She stopped again and gripped Draco’s arm tightly, apparently reliving the dread of the next moment. She took another deep breath before continuing. “We ended up in a dim room that smelled of damp and mould and I was disoriented and trying to figure out what was going on when I saw,” she shut her eyes tight and swallowed, “you. You were lying on the floor and were more pale than I have ever seen you. You weren’t moving and I thought you were dead.” Narcissa closed her eyes, her anguish apparent.

Draco clasped her hand. “I’m so sorry, mother.”

Narcissa nodded and continued, “The witch told me you had paid a large price for our freedom. She said we were in Knockturn and we didn’t have to worry about Lucius following us. Then she gave me a wand and told me to get out, that her part of the deal was done.”

“So where are we?” Draco asked. He didn’t recognize the room he was in. 

“I found an apartment in Diagon Alley that was for rent. Thankfully the owner was accommodating and said we could pay later.” Narcissa looked away from Draco, refusing to make eye contact. 

“Mother, what’s wrong? You did brilliantly. I’m just sorry I wasn’t conscious to help.”

“I...I just didn’t think I would have to ever call on this particular family for assistance.”

Draco’s stomach dropped. “What family?”

Narcissa tilted her chin in the air and finally looked Draco in the eye. “This apartment is owned by one of the older Weasley children. He even tried to insist that we didn’t have to pay and we could stay as long as we needed, but of course, I told him we would absolutely pay once you woke up and I could ensure your health.”

Draco closed his eyes and lay back on the pillow in defeat. Of course, the Weasley’s would be the ones to help. And surely by now, Potter would know that he and Narcissa were out of the Manor and in trouble of some sort. 

Narcissa and Draco sat in silence for a moment, each in their own thoughts. Narcissa finally broke the silence, “What did you have to pay her, Draco?” she asked quietly. 

Draco’s heart started pounding. So the witch hadn’t told her the payment. She didn’t know her only son was now a Muggle. He felt bile rising in his throat and he knew he wouldn’t be able to say it out loud without breaking down. So, he just shook his head and turned to his side, his back to Narcissa. 

She squeezed his shoulder and stood. “I placed a pain potion on the bedside if you need it. Get some rest.” Then she left the room, leaving Draco to cry himself to sleep.

~

The next morning, Draco woke and his pain was better, but still there. On instinct, he reached for his wand and froze when he realized he would never be able to use a wand again. He looked to the bedside table and saw his sitting there; his mother must have placed it there, obviously not knowing he couldn’t use it. 

Hesitantly, he reached towards it and slowly picked it up. His heart clenched when he didn’t feel the familiar tingles that usually accompanied touching his wand. He had to try it out anyway. He sat up and groaned as his muscles protested the stretch and then cleared his throat and cast a _Tempus_ . Nothing happened. He tried a levitation charm and then a _Lumos_ and then just simple sparks—nothing worked. He felt absolutely empty.

He heard his mother walking around in the apartment and though he wanted to go back to sleep to avoid the inevitable conversation, he forced himself out of bed. He spotted the pain potion and quickly swallowed it down, relief coursing through his body as the potion worked—he thought for a horrifying moment that it might not since he was no longer magical. 

His room didn’t have an en suite so he had no idea how he looked. There were no clothes in the room’s wardrobe so it looked like he was stuck in the same clothes he had been wearing for days. He thought about doing a cleansing and ironing charm to at least spruce himself up before again realizing that he would not be able to accomplish that.

He peeked out of his room and saw a modest hallway with two other doors. One was closed, his mother’s room he presumed, and the other was clearly a washroom. He scurried into the washroom and groaned when he saw himself in the mirror. His clothes were wrinkled, his face was pale with large dark circles under his eyes, and he looked (and felt) grimy. He clenched his jaw and held back another bout of tears when he realized he wouldn’t be able to cast any glamours to make his face look better. 

He sighed and began slowly undressing, laying his dirty clothes out gently around the small room. He started the shower and turned it as hot as he could stand. He stayed in there for far longer than usual, practising what he would say to his mother and giving time for the steam to release some of the wrinkles in his clothes. 

When he finally got out of the shower, he roughly towelled his hair as dry as he could and attempted to style it. He nearly screamed when his hair wouldn’t cooperate and he had no way to spell it decent. He re-dressed in his clothes, that hadn’t been spelled clean and were barely less wrinkled than before, and slowly walked to the small sitting room of the flat, where he found his mother sitting with some tea. 

“Good morning, mother.” 

She set her tea down and smiled at him. “Good morning. I’m glad to see you up.” She looked at him a little more carefully and frowned. “Couldn’t you have charmed your clothes a little nicer? I wanted to go to Gringotts today.”

Draco sighed and sat down next to her. “I need to tell you what happened.” He looked away. “Things will be...much different than they were.” Narcissa stayed silent, letting him speak at his own pace.

“In order to guarantee your freedom and ensure father is out of our lives, I had to give something very big. I...I had to give her my magic.”

A heavy silence hung in the air. Draco hadn’t been looking at Narcissa, but at her continued silence he glanced over. She was staring at him in confusion. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

Draco closed his eyes. “I mean exactly what I said. She demanded my magic in payment for saving you—well, us. I’m a Muggle now. I can’t charm my clothes clean and pressed, I don’t know what time it is, I feel empty and I can’t live in this magical world anymore. I can’t take care of you! I can’t do anything!” Draco had become progressively more hysterical with each sentence.

Narcissa placed a calming hand on his arm. “Draco, why would you ever agree to that? To die would have been better!”

Draco jumped up and scowled at her. “You truly wish I had stood by helplessly and let that madman beat and starve you to death? Did you want to be an accomplice to another war? Another war we would definitely lose, mind you! A war we don’t even _care_ about anymore. I did this because it was the only way. A little bit of gratefulness would not go unappreciated.”

Draco had been pacing the floor and now stomped toward the door. He was angry. Angry at his mother for her unkind words, angry at his father for being mad, angry at himself for having no other options. He reached the door and turned back toward her. “I’ll be back later,” he spat out. He heard her yelling something after him, but he slammed the door behind him and kept walking.

He got a few blocks down Diagon Alley before remembering he had no money and nowhere to go. He couldn’t even enter some of the shops without a magical signature. He ended up wandering to Fortescue’s and sitting at a table outside. He was acutely aware that he was getting looks from people passing by. He was clearly a Malfoy and clearly looked out of place at a cheery shop in the middle of the day wearing wrinkled clothes. He had even begun to sweat and felt like screaming at the world that he couldn’t do a basic cooling charm. He had no idea how he was supposed to live like a Muggle. Their lives clearly sucked.

“Malfoy?”

He immediately recognized the voice and it made him sit a little straighter and look up slowly. “Potter.” 

The fucking git smiled—actually smiled at him. Draco felt like he could start screaming and never stop.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” Harry said as he helped himself into the seat across from Draco, licking a quickly-melting cone of ice cream. 

Draco’s lip curled into a snarl. “By all means, take a seat Potter.” Harry didn’t seem to notice the slight and continued licking the streams of ice cream trying to beat them in the race to the ground. Draco stirred in his seat as the sight slightly turned him on, much to his chagrin. 

Harry finally got his cone under control and looked back up at Draco. “George said you and your mum were in town. I didn’t expect to actually see you so soon.” He paused and looked at Draco closely. “Do you want an ice cream? You look a little warm.”

Draco snorted, “How kind of you, but I’m fine, thanks.” He swiped self-consciously at his forehead, disgusted to find a layer of sweat there. 

“Where is your mum?” Harry asked, looking around as if she would materialize out of nowhere.

“She is back at our flat. We...had a misunderstanding, so I’ve taken some time to myself.”

“How are you liking the flat?” Harry smiled, “George let me live there for a while when I first got out of Hogwarts. It was my first home really. I hope you two enjoy it as much as I did.”

“Well, that’s a lovely image you’ve given me. I don’t want to think of you _enjoying_ the place I must lay my head.”

Harry threw his head back and laughed loudly. Draco looked around in embarrassment as he noticed people looking their way.

“I forgot how witty you were,” Harry said, still chuckling. Draco just harrumphed and stayed silent. Harry polished off his cone and then noisily licked his fingers. Draco shuddered at the utter heatheness of his manners, while still noting how that tongue could be put to better use.

“So. What are you and Narcissa doing here anyway? I thought for sure you’d be spending time with Lucius, what with him recently being released and all.” Harry leaned back in an apparent effort to look nonchalant. 

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you interested in what we are doing? Our business is our own.” He shifted uncomfortably as Harry’s eyes became focused and serious. For the first time, Draco noticed that Harry was wearing an Auror uniform and he thought perhaps this wasn’t a chance meeting at all. “What do you know, Potter? Why are you really here?”

Harry leaned forward. “We’ve been tracking Lucius since he was released from Azkaban. We heard whispers of what he was planning before release and have been keeping the pulse on it since then. When you two arrived in Diagon Alley two days ago, he went silent. We haven’t been able to reach our man on the inside. I need to know what happened, Draco.”

Draco’s vision narrowed as his ears rushed with blood. He didn’t know if he was going to pass out or completely explode. He briefly thought it was lucky he didn’t have magic anymore because he figured an emotion of this magnitude could have wiped out half of Diagon Alley with an accidental burst. 

He wasn’t in control of himself anymore when he stood hastily, his chair flipping over backwards. “YOU HAD A MAN ON THE INSIDE?! WE WERE HOSTAGES, POTTER! YOU LET THAT HAPPEN?!”

Harry stood and quickly grabbed Draco’s arm, waving at the people around him that he had this under control before dragging a screeching Draco down the Alley and into George’s shop.

Draco was still screeching, but his words were unintelligible at this point. Harry caught eyes with George across the shop and pointed towards his office to indicate he was going to borrow it. George stifled a laugh and continued helping the customer he had been speaking with. 

Harry and Draco finally made it up the stairs and into the office, where Harry shut the door and threw a _Muffliato_ at it to block out their conversation.

“Draco, calm down.” 

“CALM DOWN?! WHEN IN THE HISTORY OF THE BLOODY WORLD HAS THAT EVER WORKED?!” Draco was pacing the floor. “Do you even _know_ what he was doing to us? He beat my mother, he starved her! He held her in the dungeons to control me, to force me to do things I didn’t want to do. And you just stood by with a _man on the inside_ and let it fucking happen! I...I was desperate and I...oh gods.” 

Draco crumpled into a nearby chair. He had lost his magic—for nothing. Harry _fucking_ Potter could have stopped his father and he didn’t. He left them to the devices of a madman and now had the gall to step in and ask why they left.

“I know, and I’m sorry, but we had to gather enough evidence to get him back in Azkaban for life, Draco. We had to make some compromises.” 

“You can take your compromises and shove them straight up your arse! Our lives aren’t compromises, Potter. I’m a fucking Muggle now, did you know that? Did your man on the inside know that? I was _terrified_ that man, who no longer has the soul of my father, would murder my mother and I could not lose her. _I_ got us out of there, that’s what happened. I was unwilling to continue to murder innocent creatures while my mother suffered in a dank dungeon. We left and he can’t come after us. You figure out the rest yourself.”

“What do you mean you’re a Muggle?” Harry asked, confused. 

Draco glared at him. “I’m so glad we had this talk. Now kindly leave us be.”

“Draco, wai—”

But Draco had already darted out of the office, slamming the door behind him and rushing to the flat.

~*~

A week later, Draco was in his room trying on a few items of clothing he had purchased once his mother had obtained some gold from the Black family vaults. He was annoyed that he had no way to straighten out the stray wrinkles and fold lines or to put the final little touch of altering on it that gave him the fitted, sophisticated look he strived for. 

He heard a knock at the front door of the flat and paused to see if his mother was going to answer or if he needed to. He continued preening in the mirror when he heard her heading towards the door. He heard his mother greet the person and then his blood ran cold when he heard the answering voice. 

In a rage, he stomped out of his room and into the front room. “I thought I told you to leave us be! Do your own work, you prick.” 

“Draco!” his mother chided. “I am sure Mr Potter has a perfectly valid reason for gracing us with his presence, don’t you?” 

“Erm, yes ma’am, I do.”

Draco continued glaring at him but was slightly mollified by the guilt he saw on his face. 

“By all means, Potter, do tell what is so important.” Draco swept his arm exaggeratedly toward the couch and then crossed his arms, one hip canted out and one eyebrow raised in waiting.

Harry perched on the edge of the couch. “We heard from our guy and apparently Lucius has holed himself up in his study and has refused to come out. His second in command, a man named Adrian, has abandoned him, but we have Aurors on his trail to bring him in for questioning for the part he played in the abuse of you two.”

Draco snorted a contemptuous laugh and Narcissa gave him a warning look before looking back at Harry. “Please continue, Mr Potter.”

“You may have figured it out by now, but Ralph was our man on the inside. He has been following Lucius since before his release and has compiled the evidence for us. You may also like to know he has been officially reprimanded for not letting his higher-ups know about the extent of abuse going on in your house.” 

Harry paused to see if either Narcissa or Draco had any questions. When they both stared at him in silence he continued, “We have a team entering the Manor any minute now to remove Lucius and take him back to Azkaban. His activities were presented to the Wizengamot and he was sentenced to life, effective immediately. We will, of course, let you know when he has been safely removed so you can return to your home.”

Harry paused again and Narcissa and Draco remained silent, both staring at him, seemingly unimpressed. 

Harry blushed and rubbed his neck. “I’m really sorry that we, well I, let you two down. I didn’t realize things were so bad in the home. I didn’t think he would ever lash out against you two.”

“Funny how madness will do that,” Draco said dryly. 

Harry had the decency to look ashamed. “Draco, I did some research into…into what you did to get out and, well,” Harry rubbed his neck again, “we don’t have any jurisdiction over the witch of Unfortunate Souls, but I spoke with Hermione and—”

“Enough, Potter,” Draco held his palm up, “I don’t need your help and clearly it would be lacking anyway.”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy,” Narcissa stood up and glared daggers at him, “if Mr Potter has a way to fix you—to return you to your natural state—you would be more foolish than Lucius if you refused.”

Draco’s mouth dropped in shock and then clenched back up in anger. “I’m sorry me being Muggle is such a burden on you, mother. Perhaps next time you are in mortal danger I’ll focus more on being socially acceptable and less on saving your arse.”

“Draco.” Her tone brooked no argument. Draco pointedly didn’t look at either of them, he just stood there stewing. “Please continue, Mr Potter.”

“Erm, I talked with Hermione, uh Hermione Granger.” Harry didn’t miss Draco’s exaggerated eye roll. “She’s an Unspeakable and she believes she knows a way to return your magic. Now your signature might be a little off, but she said with time—”

“Do you always ramble so much?” Draco asked. 

Harry grinned crookedly. “I’ve been told I do.”

Draco sighed in annoyance. “Fine. When do we,” he flapped a hand in the air, “go...to Granger?” He rolled his eyes again. 

“Assuming everything goes as planned in capturing Lucius, then tomorrow morning I’ll come back to escort the two of you to your home and then you and I can go to the Ministry.” 

Narcissa smiled for the first time in months and looked over at Draco, silently nudging him to respond.

Draco huffed, “Fine. Thanks, Potter.”

Harry smiled a stupid, full-faced smile that was really quite out of place with the mood of the room. Draco rolled his eyes again and stomped back to his room to begin packing his new clothes.

~*~

Harry was true to his word and arrived at their flat early the next morning with news that Lucius was secured back in Azkaban. He told both Draco and Narcissa that if they wished to visit him to say ‘goodbye’ or ‘fuck you’ or anything, that he could arrange it. For the time being, they both declined; he was no longer the Lucius they had known and they didn’t wish to know this one. He also brought news that Adrian had been captured and was in a cell in the DMLE awaiting a trial with the Wizengamot. 

Harry escorted them back to the Manor, which had been stripped of everything Lucius had worked on. All his correspondences had been taken as evidence. The Manor looked again like it had before he was released. After a slight snafu in which Draco was not permitted to enter his own grounds due to the wards rejecting his lack of magic, his mother adjusted them so he could enter.

After ensuring his mother was settled, Draco walked to the sitting room that he had left Harry in to let him know he was ready to go to the Ministry. He found Harry pacing the room. “Agitated, Potter?” 

Harry huffed a laugh. “For some reason, I always get a bit uncomfortable here. I wonder why?” He answered dryly, with a quick look at Draco.

Draco pursed his lips. “It could have been worse, you know. For both of us.”

Harry’s lips quirked into an amused smirk and he walked towards Draco, stepping much closer than Draco felt was absolutely necessary. “Yes it could have been. I never got a chance to properly thank you for not giving me away, did I?” Draco could have sworn that Harry swayed even closer to him and that his eyes flicked down to his lips.

Draco blushed and stepped backwards. He hadn’t had anyone flirt with him in a long time, but he would bet his entire vault’s worth of Galleons that Potter was flirting with him. “Shall we go?” he said, much more breathlessly than he intended. 

Harry chuckled low in his chest and walked past Draco to the Floo. He grabbed some powder and turned back to Draco. “Coming?”

Draco shook his head and approached Harry to Floo to the Ministry together. 

~

“So we’re pretty sure the witch from Unfortunate Souls used the _Magicae Furantur_ potion on you. It’s highly illegal of course, but not even our department will tangle with her: she has magical abilities that exceed anything we’ve ever seen. One of our operatives approached her once to see if she would be willing to be studied—but...well, that didn’t work out too well.” Hermione grimaced at the memory.

Draco waited patiently. If there was anything he remembered about Granger from school, it was that she was exceedingly bright and had no compunction about sharing her knowledge. He knew it was better to wait her out than try to hurry her along. He also actually really enjoyed hearing what she learned, but he would rather stay Muggle than tell her so. 

As Hermione continued explaining her well-thought-out theories and how she planned to return his magic to him, his eye wandered over to Harry, who was not paying a bit of attention and instead was playing with some knick-knacks on Hermione’s desk. Draco felt both annoyed that he was so uninterested and slightly amused that he appeared to be the same highly distractible boy Draco had had a crush on in Hogwarts.

“We have developed a potion that has proven to return magic in controlled tests, it’s just unfortunate that the tests haven’t exactly included humans yet.” Draco raised his eyebrows at Hermione, who rushed forward, “But we have every confidence it should, er _will_ , work on humans. We call it _Magicae Reditus_ , which literally means to return your magic!” 

She was so exuberant that even if Draco wasn’t so desperate to have his magic back he still would have taken this potion. “Okay, so where is it?”

“My colleague will be bringing it shortly. I hope you don’t mind, but we will be taking notes and asking questions throughout the process. Oh! And also, your magical signature may not feel like yours at first, but we believe that once you possess it and use it, the signature will return to your natural state.”

Draco took a deep breath. “Well, no time like now. Shall we?” He bounced on his toes, his nerves finally catching up to him. He looked around to see if the colleague was coming yet; he just wanted to take this before he had a chance to well and truly panic. 

“You ok?” 

Draco shivered as Harry’s whispered question tickled his spine. When had Harry gotten so close to him? He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see Harry’s bright emerald eyes mere inches from him. Harry smelled good. 

“Ah! Here he is!” Hermione greeted a man entering her office while carefully holding a steaming chalice. “Ready, Draco?”

Draco breathed deeply and nodded. The man handed him the chalice and he immediately drank it in one enormous gulp. This potion didn’t burn nearly as bad, but he still managed to drop the chalice as he lost his footing and fell to his knees. He began coughing violently and struggled to catch his breath. He thought he was going to suffocate. He heard Hermione and Harry speaking to him, but it seemed so far away. He crumpled to the floor as he once again lost consciousness.

~

Draco first became aware of something—no, someone—pressing down on his lips. The lips were soft and warm and he melted under their pressure; he felt a velvety tongue slip into his mouth and his eyes flitted open. 

He gasped when he saw Harry’s dark mop of hair hovering over him and instinctively his hand pulled back and sharply smacked Harry’s cheek. “Malfoy’s don’t kiss without dinner, Potter,” he croaked out. 

“Oh thank Merlin,” Harry said, relief evident in his voice. 

Still lying on the ground, Draco looked towards Granger. “Was this oaf’s kiss part of the potion?”

She shrugged, “You’re the first to take it and he panicked and thought it would help.”

Draco rolled his eyes and sat up, taking a moment to assess his body: he felt fine. In fact, much better than he had in a long time; he felt _whole_. He noticed that Hermione was looking at him excitedly with a wand—his wand—in her hand, her colleague still taking notes furiously.

“Would you like to try something?” Hermione asked, holding his wand out to him. Draco stood and cast a levitation charm on one of the knick-knacks Harry had been playing with. He sighed in satisfaction as he felt the familiar spark of energy run through his entire being. Hermione squealed, “I knew it would work! How did it feel? Can you describe everything in detail? Oh! And we have questions about the _Magicae Furantur_ potion if you could answer those.”

“Hermione, give him a moment to breathe, will you?! Are you feeling ok?” Harry asked.

Draco couldn’t help himself, he smiled. “Yeah, I feel great actually.” 

Harry grinned broadly. “I’ll see you tomorrow night then for that dinner, yeah?”

Draco smirked and then turned to Granger. “Alright, shall we debrief, perhaps somewhere else?”

Hermione was looking between the two men with a knowing expression on her face. “Sure thing, follow me.” 

Draco trailed behind Hermione, possibly swaying his hips more than strictly necessary, knowing that Harry would be watching him leave.

~*~

_**3 months later** _

“Thank you for the incredible dinner, Narcissa. I’ve honestly never had anything so good.” Harry smiled warmly at the older woman and then stuck his tongue out at Draco, who had snorted in laughter.

“Honestly Potter, you already have permission to date me, you don’t need to be _such_ a suck-up.” 

“Draco dear, don’t be so dour. Thank you, Harry, I’m glad someone appreciates it when I cook.” Narcissa threw a side glance at Draco, who merely rolled his eyes. 

“Come on Harry, let’s take a walk,” Draco said, standing. 

“Narcissa, can I help you clear the table?”

Draco clucked his tongue and Narcissa laughed. “No, you boys go on, I’m fine. Thank you though.”

Harry finally stood and held his hand out for Draco, who took it swiftly and pulled them out of the dining room. 

Draco could not have ever imagined that he would have ended up with Harry Potter. He had been so happy the past three months that he was almost thankful for the entire string of events that had led Harry directly to him. 

“Knut for your thoughts?” Harry asked as they exited into the back gardens. 

Draco chuckled. “A ‘nut’ doesn’t sound bad at all now that you mention it” He smiled slyly at Harry, enjoying the blush that flowed over the other man’s cheeks and the sharp intake of breath. 

He had never met a man more into fucking than Harry, but he was always more than eager to oblige him. “Come on old man, I’ll race you.” And with that, Draco sprinted off, heading toward a specific part of the garden that he knew was secluded and beautiful. He heard the heavy thump of Harry’s footfalls following him and he pressed himself harder. His ulterior motive was to get Harry alone, but he would be damned if he let Harry beat him.

Draco rushed into a small copse of trees, darting around the trunks in a way he knew Harry’s heavier body would have trouble copying, until he burst into a tiny clearing and skidded to a halt. Harry reached him seconds later and bumped into him roughly as he attempted to stop quickly. 

They stood there for a moment, grinning at each other while their chests heaved. “Y-you cheated,” Harry huffed out.

Draco stepped close to him, brushing his sweat-dampened hair out of his face and placing a soft kiss over his scar. “I did no such thing,” he whispered in Harry’s ear, before trailing his lips down his throat with gentle kisses, only to retrace his kiss trail with his tongue, licking the salty sweat from Harry’s heated skin. 

Harry shuddered violently and Draco smiled against his throat as he felt Harry’s cock start to fill between their tightly pressed bodies. Harry always smelled so good, but never as good as when he was lightly sweating. His scent drove Draco wild. He continued kissing, nipping, and licking Harry’s throat.

Harry was moaning and whimpering and clutching Draco close to him. They had had sex that morning, but Harry still acted as if he was starved and only Draco’s body could satiate him. Draco had no qualms with admitting that he thrived on this type of worship. 

He stepped back and grabbed the bottom hem of Harry’s shirt, roughly pulling it over his head before diving back in to kiss and stroke Harry’s chest. His chest hair held in his heat and his scent and Draco felt as if he could come just by running his hands and his mouth over the taut flesh. He pulled one puckered nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, a hand snaking down to rub Harry’s cock through his trousers.

“Draco, I...I need…” Harry didn’t finish his sentence, but Draco knew what he needed. He stepped back again and slowly began undressing, moving his body to optimize his lean shape; he knew Harry liked to watch him undress. He got down to his pants and caught Harry’s eyes, smiling wickedly as he slowly pulled his pants down, first exposing his hip bones and then the top of his pubic hair.

Harry’s eyes were fixated on Draco’s crotch, waiting for his cock to be revealed, but Draco was fixated on Harry’s eyes. Draco had never known anyone to wear his feelings so plainly on his face and he could never get enough of knowing exactly how much Harry wanted him.

His cock finally popped free of his pants and smacked against his belly. Draco had had many sexual partners in his life, but he had never been as turned on as he always was with Harry. Harry groaned and dropped to his knees, his teeth clanging together as he hit the ground roughly, but before Draco could ask if he was ok, Harry had engulfed his entire cock and was positively humming around the length. 

Draco’s eyes rolled back and he locked his knees to keep from falling. His hands snaked into Harry’s hair and he alternated between pulling it and caressing it. He let Harry suck him until he was close but then pushed him back. Harry wasn’t prepared and fell back onto his bum, his eyes dazed and his lips swollen and wet. Draco loved when Harry sucked him off, but he had learned early on that Harry wouldn’t stop on his own; he simply loved cock too much and would suck until Draco had blown his load deep in his throat—even then he usually didn’t stop and Draco had to push him off when he became too sensitive. 

Draco often let Harry blow him to completion, but today he wanted more. He dropped on top of Harry, his knees on either side of his thighs. He quickly undid Harry’s button and zip and helped push his trousers and pants down, but he only got to mid-thigh before giving up because Harry’s cock was out and he was hard and it was very distracting. 

Draco grabbed Harry’s wand and cast a lubrification and a loosening charm. He didn’t want to wait for the manual prep today. He rubbed the lube up and down Harry’s shaft. Harry arched into his hands and grunted as he thrust up. Once Draco was satisfied, he held Harry’s cock firmly and braced himself over it.

He rubbed the tip around his hole before lining it up and pushing down, taking Harry’s entire length in one slow stroke. Harry’s head had thrown back as Draco sank onto him and his teeth were clenched tight. Draco knew he was close. 

Draco began riding Harry’s cock in earnest while tugging on his own length. Sometimes they took their time with pleasure, and sometimes they demanded it. 

Draco leaned forward, bracing himself on Harry’s chest as he angled his arse to have his prostate hit every time he sank down; this way he could come without needing to even touch his cock. 

Harry was making the choked grunts that indicated he was close and Draco clenched his muscles. Harry cried out as he thrust up roughly and came and Draco continued to ride him, clenching and unclenching his muscles to milk every drop from Harry. He looked down at Harry’s blissfully tortured face and he came, painting Harry’s chest hair with his spunk. 

Draco slowed as both men came down from the high, then he slipped to the side and grabbed Harry’s wand again to clean them up. Still naked, he cuddled next to Harry, throwing one leg over Harry’s thighs.

Dusk was falling and the first of the stars were beginning to peek through. Honeysuckle lightly scented the air and Draco closed his eyes, content to listen to Harry’s heartbeat slowly return to normal while already planning fun and inventive ways to rev it up again as soon as they were rested. Briefly losing his magic was the best thing that had ever happened to him.


End file.
